


Merlot

by Noctem31



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Harry, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Lord Harry Potter, Dark Magic, Late Night Writing, London, M/M, Merlot - Freeform, One Shot, Powerful Harry, Slytherin, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry, Wine, dark aesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 22:43:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctem31/pseuds/Noctem31
Summary: “The next Dark Lord,” they called him....Well, they were right.





	Merlot

The emerald eyed man pushed himself up from the bed, leaving silky obsidian colored sheets behind with a sigh. He slipped into his black cashmere robe and tied it loosely at his waist.

Stepping forward, he ran his fingers through his messy hair and picked up a half empty bottle of merlot. After pouring himself a generous serving, he walked through the open doors onto a sizable balcony. He leaned casually against the railing and sipped delicately from his glass, savoring the hints of oak and chocolate as they ran across his palate. 

He glanced over his shoulder and took in the sight of his partner tangled in the sheets. _ Partner in crime would be more accurate, _he thought to himself. He watched for another moment as the dark skinned man’s chest rose and fell with quiet, even breaths. 

He turned back to the city view below him. London, lively even during the late hours of the night. 

Tomorrow they would begin. They would gather supporters, those who remained after the war with Voldemort. 

He had to admit, despite everything the man had done to him throughout his life, he couldn’t help but feel _ grateful. _ Voldemort’s war had certainly made it easier for him to begin his rise to power. Dumbledore’s death _ was _ Voldemort’s fault after all. 

Thanks to Voldemort, Harry Potter was now worshipped among the magical communities around the world. Becoming a powerful Dark Lord was easy when you already had thousands of adoring fans. Harry’s word was _ gospel. _ Prior to the war, the magical community itched for any opportunity to belittle him. They loved reading about the young boy-who-lived sorted into Slytherin. “ _ The next Dark Lord,” _they called him. 

Well, they were right. 

He drank deeply then, enjoying the heat as it ran down his throat and settled contently in his stomach. 

If only Tom Riddle had decided to use his charisma and good looks to win over the public. They would have been eating out of his hands in under five years. In ten he would have owned them completely. After ten years they wouldn’t have dared to question any of his decisions. He could have been a king. Instead, Tom Riddle simply paved the way for another charismatic man to seize power. 

Harry Potter smirked as he looked over the great city of London. It was going to be his soon enough. In a way, it already was. They just didn’t know it yet. 

He finished off the last of his wine before returning to the bed. He tossed his robe on a nearby chair and climbed underneath the sheets. He turned onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow. His emerald eyes glittered as he brushed his fingers gently across his lover's handsome features. 

The other man’s dark eyes fluttered open. Harry smiled as his partner sat up and kissed his cheek. 

“What are you doing awake?” He asked in a voice husky with sleep. 

“Just enjoying the view,” Harry insisted with a smirk. 

The dark eyed man huffed a laugh and Harry pulled him down for a kiss. 


End file.
